


Moonshine

by Jadesfire



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-29
Updated: 2010-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-08 10:06:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadesfire/pseuds/Jadesfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Damn good stuff, this</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonshine

**Author's Note:**

> The request was for happy!jack. This is the result.

  
Jack's office looked as though a small, untidy whirlwind had passed through it, strewing papers across the floor and pulling half the books off the shelves. Whatever it had been looking for had apparently been located on the small cabinet next to the bookcase. Some of the larger bottles were conspicuous by their absence.

Ianto took another step into the room.

"Sir?"

He couldn't see anyone in the office, but he could hear movement from somewhere nearby.

"Jack?"

There was a noise, almost like a laugh, very close now. Since there was no-one in here or in the main Hub, that only left one more place. Very, very carefully, (once bitten, twice shy – literally) he began to climb down the ladder into Jack's quarters.

The room below was in semi-darkness, just an odd, flickering blue light playing over the walls and floor. There wasn't much furniture down here, just an old, comfy leather chair and a large bookcase full of Jack's trashy novels and precious first editions.

"Jack?" Ianto called and was rewarded with that odd sound again. If he didn't know better, he would have said it was sniggering. He slowly made his way through into the space that Jack used as a bedroom, peering into the gloom. One corner had been sectioned off for use as a kitchenette; or, at least, that's what it had been last time Ianto was down here.

Now, it was apparently being used as home away from home for Doctor Jekyll. A large, wooden table had been placed in front of the sink and a complicated array of bowls, bottles and beakers stood on it. Ianto's eyes followed the tubing as it snaked from one end of the table to the other, curling from a flask of an unidentifiable substance, in and out of a large jar that seemed to be full of boiling water, and through numerous twists and turns until finally dispensing its contents into an empty whisky bottle.

"Ianto!"

Spinning round, Ianto made out a shape in the shadows that might, just might, have been Jack. If Jack was slouching, listing slightly to the right and clutching an empty bottle. No, Ianto realised, stepping closer, not empty.

"Jack?"

The figure in the darkness wagged a finger. "Now, now. You're supposed to call me 'sir', remember?"

All the words were there, only slightly slurred, and the voice was right, but Ianto didn't remember the last time he'd heard Jack so gleeful. Well, not while fully clothed, anyway.

"I thought I was supposed to call you 'Jack', down here at least," Ianto pointed out, taking another cautious step towards the corner and wondering why he was trying to reason with someone drunk on whatever the hell it was that was dripping steadily out of the end of the chemistry set from hell.

"Good point. Very good point." The Jack-figure took another swig from the bottle, following it with a satisfied sigh. "Damn good stuff, this. Want some?" He held the bottle out.

"No," Ianto said, a little too quickly. "Thank you, sir. Jack."

"Damn good stuff," Jack said again. "Get out of jail free card, this stuff." He laughed, an odd, higher pitched sound than Ianto had expected. In fact, he hadn't expected Jack to be a happy drunk at all. Gloomy, possibly. Maudlin, certainly, railing against the general unfairness of life before slowly slipping under the table. He hadn't expected…giggling.

"Are you alright down there?" he asked, crouching down within arm's reach. Jack looked well enough, if you took the drunkenness out of the equation. He was slightly red in the face, but he mostly seemed to be sitting on the ground because he lacked the co-ordination to get back up again. The bottle was cradled protectively against his chest and he grinned cheerfully at Ianto.

"I'm good. Fabulous. You?"

"I'm fine. Can you get up?"

"Always." Jack giggled again and Ianto sighed. This was going to take some work.

"Come on. Let's get you to bed."

"Now, now, Mister Jones." Ianto leaned backwards as Jack waved the bottle in his general direction. His words were getting more and more slurred. "So soon? You haven't even had a drink yet."

"Right." Giving in, Ianto took the bottle and sniffed at it. When he'd finished coughing, he gave Jack a suspicious look. "What the hell-" He broke off, coughing again.

"Moonshine." The word was said with considerable relish and accompanied by a suggestive raising of the eyebrows. Well, one eyebrow actually, but as it was Jack, that was enough.

"Moonshine?" Placing the bottle on the floor, well out of the way, Ianto reached for Jack. "Come on. You'll catch your death down on this cold floor."

That sent Jack into another fit of snickering that it took Ianto a moment to catch up with. Shaking his head and unable to resist chuckling himself, he got a grip on Jack's wrists and gave a gentle tug.

The next thing Ianto knew, he had a lap full of very warm, very giggly Jack Harkness whose weight was slowly toppling them both over.

"Jack," Ianto began, warningly, feeling a puff of hot breath against his neck as Jack made no attempt to get his balance again.

"Hmmmmm?"

"Jack! I can't-" There was no chance to finish the sentence as Ianto lost his balance completely, tumbling backwards and unable to suppress a distinctly undignified yelp as they both landed on the lino. Jack had somehow managed to keep them pressed together as they fell, wriggling a little against Ianto's chest to get comfortable. Or something.

"Hmmmmm." Settling himself and untangling their arms, Jack reached out and pulled the bottle towards him.

"Are you quite alright there?" Ianto asked, a little breathless from the fall. Yes, that was it. From the fall and having six foot of drunken captain resting on him. That had to be it. He looked up into Jack's wide, failing-to-be-innocent eyes. Yes, it was definitely being squashed under Jack's weight that was making him breathless. Definitely.

He tried not to choke as Jack waved the bottle under his nose again, a broad, knowing smile on his face.

"Hypervodka?"


End file.
